


I Paint in Black and White.

by Spf40k



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Artist AU, Cute, F/M, Post-Naruto Time Skip | Naruto Shippuden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spf40k/pseuds/Spf40k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this as a Christmas gift exchange for Dalliance. SakuraxSai AU where he is a painter. Hope you like it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Paint in Black and White.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dalliance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalliance/gifts).



I always sat on the same street corner.

With this same brush.

Painting the same tourists. 

There was no hiding in those long melancholy days out under the sun-when those same tourists would refuse to pay for their portraits. They said I made them ugly. That, of course they didn’t look like my paintings, and wouldn’t pay for such a farce. They called me a sham, and a crook. When all I did was put on the canvas what was right in front of me. The same people as always. It was simple, but they said they hated it, practically guaranteed. Still, they took their portraits either way -money or no. So, I wonder... 

But, regardless. All I know is how to paint. So that’s what I did. 

Every

Single

Day...

 

I had just finished one of these same portraits, on one of these same days. The street was busy as ever. So I didn’t really hear when the subject finally saw their likeness and practically spat. It was strange, they always seem to like it until it’s time for the bill. I received half of my rate this time at least. They seemed happy then, and made their way off with their portrait. They talked about it with their partner about how good it was, or something. 

And so, I sat there, waiting for my next customer to arrive. It seemed like the area was busier than usual. Oh, probably because of the new store opening soon. I wasn’t really sure what it was, they came and went so quickly around here. So this one probably wouldn’t last either. 

I sat there, until it was long past dark and the only light was from the few and far between street lamps that lined the walkways. Most everyone had headed home, or to where they were staying, and so did I. Back to my same apartment, I ate the same food, and slept; in preparation for another same day. 

And so it continued. 

It was on one particularly same day, when I had dozed off over my pallet. The paint was practically dry, so there was no really worry about damage. But it was strange, I don’t even remember what I was dreaming about when I came to eventually. Just that passive feeling of having one. Either way, it wasn’t like I missed anything. So it’s not like I was going to worry over something like that. 

But this nagging feeling was weird. This same street. It seemed… 

Different. 

What was this… color? It seemed almost like watercolors had covered everything in a pastel haze. Oh, these are petals.... 

As my vision became sharper it was clear that stray petals of every type were floating down the street. A few were even scattered here and there over my supplies. 

Where did these things come from? I stood up, and scanned the street for the source. Turning, I saw the origin. A flower shop that was bursting to the brim with every kind of colored blossom in existence. For a good few minutes I swear I didn’t even need to breath, just remain enchanted by this new sight. 

I didn’t notice the stares as I was apparently the only unmoving body on this busy street.It had no influence on my decision to turn my usual spot on that same street corner... to one facing across from this new addition. 

I began to paint. I don’t know how many I finished in all. The colors were just flowing like a burst dam that I had no hope of containing. Not that I was trying to, but still. That day I painted until my hand could no longer hold the brush, and I was forced to head back to my same home. 

But... I think I slept a bit more soundly that night. 

 

It was still the same street corner, the same brush, the same tourists. But I was not painting them. I had mountains of canvas, fit to burst with the sights of the flower shop and it’s adornments. 

I think someone actually paid for one of these scenes. 

But I didn’t have time for that, there was too much still to do. I didn’t care about keeping them, only putting into the world forever this fleeting… beauty? 

Another day, I painted. And I returned home. The same as every other day. 

But not. 

I finished another painting this day. And as I always do, I inspect it for any last touches before adding it to the ever growing display.

...Huh? Who was this? In the painting… did I really do this? It wasn’t a flower, but a figure among them. I examined the storefront. Oh, It must have been the shopkeeper. They were surrounded by all of the flowers, so I must have painted them by accident. They were faint, being so far away, but it looked nice enough though. So in the pile it went. 

I went home, I returned. Another same day.

I painted. It was strange, I never seemed to get tired of painting this same shop. I was deeply enthralled in the middle of putting to canvas this one particularly bright set of daffodils when- 

“...Hello?” 

I didn’t turn from my canvas, probably someone wanting to buy one of the paintings, at least that’s what I assumed. I was a bit annoyed by the interruption.

“Yes..?” 

“Are you the one painting all of these of-” 

I turned then, she obviously wanted to have a conversation. It would be over and done with quicker if I acknowledged her-sooner rather than later. 

“-my flower shop?” 

When I saw her, I-my mouth remained hung open for, I don’t even know how long. And I was certainly staring. This person was… 

She looked at me, awaiting a reply. Her green eyes seeing right through me without any effort at all. I still hadn’t answered, so she continued. 

“I wanted to thank you. Whether you meant to or not, your paintings seem to be bringing in lots of business for me. People talk about them all the time.” 

She smiled at me, and I swear a breath caught in my throat. I watched as she looked at all of my portraits. “They really are lovely. I mean… I guess you’d know that though. Since you painted them and all.” 

“Yes I… paint.” What was I saying, seriously? But I couldn’t help it. This person, who so suited the flowers that I had been fixated on for... who knows how long... was right here in front of me. And I was at a loss for words. Captivated.

She seemed to find humor somewhere in all of this as she left out a soft laugh. “Well, if you ever have some time, please stop on by. I’ll give you a good discount.”

“I… sure.” I breathed, finally daring to look away from this person. She gave another smile before beginning to head back towards… her shop I suppose. 

“See you around, Mr. Artist!” She chanted, giving me a small wave before disappearing from my view. 

I didn’t know what to do then… so I painted. I didn’t know what, exactly. I just needed something to do. To occupy my mind.

Another day, the same as any other. 

But, not... 

I was on the same street corner, with the same brush, with the same people bustling about. And I painted. But, the now familiar face of the shopkeeper looking back at me from the canvas, surrounded by those same followers. What was I doing… 

With a sigh, I put down my pallet, and prepared myself. 

What did I have to lose? 

I grabbed the portrait, and walked across the street. The wind casually carrying a stray, light purple lilac across the walkway. It was a miracle that no one had stepped on it. I picked it up, looking at it, turning it over in my hand, afraid I might damage it. And then I looked up to the entrance to the storefront. Wishing I could gather the courage to step over the threshold. It definitely was strange. Never before had I really cared whether anyone liked their picture or not. I always just painted what I saw. But this time… 

I really hoped they thought I made them beautiful.


End file.
